It Only Hurts Just Once
by xXNevermoreAgainXx
Summary: I can only pray, as my vision darkens now, that those cuts had been worth it. That they had succeeded in making sure my death was painful on no one but myself. That is all I ask for. They say it only hurts just once. They lied." Depressing oneshot.


**WARNING: The following story is depressing as hell. You have been warned.**

**I'm in another bad mood. Long story, but I am going through something similar to this at the moment, and I needed to let it out. **

**It has a little Romy hints in the middle, but please note this is pure angst. This is me venting some really bad feelings. I hope it isn't that confusing or upsetting to any of you. I'll make sure to write a happy, funny Romy story when I get in a better mood to make up for this.**

**I just needed to vent.**

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They say it only hurts just once.

A clean cut. No loose ends. No lingering thoughts or regrets. Just a quick, simple movement to slice through it all. All the ties, all the pain, all the guilt.

Just one cut is all it takes.

That's what I tried to do. I tried to make that cut.

Nobody told me it would be this hard.

The action of it was not what hurt the most. No. Certain…measures must be made before you can make that final cut. The last one. The cut that slices that tie to you and life. Releases your soul to a different astral plain where you await your summoning to Heaven or Hell. Where you can be free from Earthly attachments, and run without ever looking back.

To make that cut, you must first berid of your Earthly attachments.

This is where it hurts.

A lot.

I never wanted to cause them pain. I never wanted to cause _him _pain. It was the only solution. I would only bring more heartache if I had lingered in their lives. It needed to be done.

That was my first cut. I didn't go shopping with my best friend anymore, I didn't play along with my brother's desperate attempts to get some sort of reaction out of me. It hurt. It hurt to see the pain in their eyes when I no longer was who they once knew. When I cut myself from their lives, letting go of the bonds we had once shared.

It hurt, but it was for the best.

Next I cut my ties with the only person I had ever considered family. My father, or the closest thing I ever had to one.

That hurt. A lot.

I wasn't his little 'Stripes' anymore. I was disconnected, empty. Lifeless. The hurt I saw in his eyes was nothing compared to what I knew it would be when I got around to making that final cut, when I left for good.

I only hope that when that time does come, I will just be 'Rogue' again.

Not 'Stripes'.

Not his little girl.

It hurts. But it is for the best.

I took some time to myself after that. I needed to. There was no way I could face that final cut without taking some time to catch my breath.

Do you know what it's like? To never be able to get close to someone? To always be haunted by the pain you know results from those precious bonds?

When I connect with someone, that is not to be taken lightly. These people are, were, everything to me. My friends. My family.

That's why I had to cut them off.

I couldn't stand knowing that I might be that precious to them as well.

I couldn't bear the fact that I might be hurting them so much by cutting myself off from this life I had been trying to so hard to grasp.

I just wish it didn't hurt so bad.

Trust is something easily broken, but difficult to build.

For me, it is nearly impossible. But they, my family, they broke down those walls I had built to separate myself from any social interaction.

Cutting my ties with them was the hardest thing I have ever done.

And then there was him.

The one person who never feared my poison touch. The one person who had been willing to dig deeper and see the real me, not just the mask I had used to keep everyone else at bay.

He says he has the eyes of the devil.

To me, he is anything but.

I knew I had to cut my ties with him before long. But it just _hurt _damn it! I _loved _him!

And I couldn't stand the fact that he might love me, too.

I wasn't going to put him through that. I was tired of dragging him down with me. He deserved so much better then what I was putting him through.

I didn't deserve him.

But I knew he wasn't going to let me go that easy. I was going to have to be harsh. I was going to have to spit acid on his heart and then walk away and not look back, because if I did look back, I would certainly break down and never move forward again.

It hurt.

A lot.

And I hadn't even done anything yet.

I put on my mask and went forth, knowing this was going to be the hardest, most painful thing I had ever done in my life.

He knew something was wrong the moment he saw me. He asked me if I was ok.

I said no.

It wasn't a lie.

He asked me what was wrong.

The words burned me as they came out.

I told him it was him.

That was a lie.

I told him that it was over. I told him that I never wanted to see him again. I told him that he needed to forget about me right then and there and not to ever try and follow me again.

Lies.

I hated myself as I said those words, but I didn't stop them.

Anything to cut the tie I had with him.

Anything to save him from the pain he would surely feel if I didn't.

But the look on his face as I walked away made me want to die.

Words couldn't describe that look in his eyes when I was done speaking to him.

It hurt.

A lot.

But it had to be done.

I thought it would be easy. I thought it would be easy to just cut my ties with everyone before I really did it. Before I really made that one, fatal cut and left this world for good.

It wasn't.

At all.

It hurt more then anything I had ever felt before. Those bonds I had made with them were the most treasured things I could ever have or wish for. I hope that when I'm gone they realize why I had to cut those ties. I hope they know that it was only because I wanted to save them the pain that might come from my death.

After all, it hurts to have those ties cut. Especially when it isn't you who cut them.

So here I am. I made the cuts with my loved ones. They hurt so much more then the one I just made.

The final cut. The real one. The one that was visible on my wrist. This cut was nothing compared to the pain of those other ones. The ones that no one could see, but are felt all the same. The cuts I made with the ones I loved still burn deep, and the blood flowing from my arm is nothing on the emotional agony.

I can only pray, as my vision darkens now, that those cuts had been worth it. That they had succeeded in making sure my death was painful on no one but myself.

That is all I ask for.

They say it only hurts just once.

They lied.

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**I warned you it was super depressing. I actually feel better having wrote this, so I hope I didn't make any of you too sad by reading it!**

**Like I said, I know it is probably confusing, but I don't really feel like explaining it right now. It you understand what the story was saying, then congrats! You, like me, are a deep thinker on these levels!**

**If you don't get it, then don't feel bad. My mind is a very confusing, dark place sometimes. I barely understand myself.**

**Well, hope you liked it anyway.**

**Please review.**


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